The world agrees: dad is very right

Years ago, when dad worked with Uncle Joe and dinosaurs roamed the earth, dad just knew his colleague was an awful writer. Now Uncle Joe is being held up to the world as an example of one the worst writers ever -- or at least certainly this year.

Uncle Joe's wife, Aunt Cady, notes that, well, "i guess i’m supposed to be proud." You gotta start some place, lady. Anyway, she's got some more details and opinions over yonder.

The winning entry, for those paying attention:

Timothy Hanson, Commander of the 43rd Space Regiment in the 52nd Battalion on board the USAOPAC (United Space Alliance Of Planets Attack Carrier) and second in command to Admiral L.R. Morris of the USAOP Space Command, awoke early for breakfast.

Way to, er, go, er, Joe. Yeah.

Other amusing entries include:

Theirs was a New York love, a checkered taxi ride burning rubber, and like the city their passion was open 24/7, steam rising from their bodies like slick streets exhaling warm, moist, white breath through manhole covers stamped "Forged by DeLaney Bros., Piscataway, N.J.

-- Garrison Spik, Washington, D.C.

"Die, commie pigs!" grunted Sergeant "Rocky" Steele through his cigar stub as he machine-gunned the North Korean farm animals.

-- Dave Ranson, Calgary, Alberta, Northern Suburbs

Mike Hummer had been a private detective so long he could remember Preparation A, his hair reminded everyone of a rat who'd bitten into an electrical cord, but he could still run faster than greased owl snot when he was on a bad guy's trail, and they said his friskings were a lot like getting a vasectomy at Sears.

-- Robert B. Robeson, Lincoln, Nebraska

Nobody knew just who the steely-eyed stranger was, where he came from, where he was headed, or what his intentions were while he was in Dodge City; but he wasn't an hombre you'd want to stick your tongue out at or flip off, and any man who tried to tickle him would be asking for a long stay in a pine box, if you know what I mean.

-- David McKenzie, Federal Way, Washington

I heard her husky breathing as she came up the stairs, breathing exactly the way a sled dog breathes after competing in the Iditatrod as she sauntered into the room her hips swiveling from side to side like a Sherman M-4 tank with a 75mm gun forcing its way through the hedgerows of Normandy after D-Day in 1944.

-- Bruce Hannem, Citrus Heights, California

And of course, we should point out at least one of the guys that Uncle Joe beat:

Lightning flashed from the blue-black sky of this alien world and shattered the engines of the spaceship, destroying Reninger's last chance of escaping and reminding him of the time his sister returned from New York with the tips of her hair dyed blue, except for the part about the lightning and the spaceship.

-- Mark Murata, Kirkland, Washington

Let's hear it for our loser!

For those who just need absolutely more, dad can't recommend highly enough the beginning of Bad Hemingway, a collaborative effort that started off bright but fizzled pretty quickly. And if you like that, you might dig Naked Came the Manatee, a book by Carl Hiaasen, Dave Barry, Elmore Leonard and the heads of Fidel Castro.